


Fragile

by JadeAvici



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, F/F, Self-Destruction, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8327152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeAvici/pseuds/JadeAvici
Summary: Fareeha was numb to the world, nothing could make her feel anything anymore. Looking for a fight and something to prove she found her self in a sticky situation. Only to be rescued by a familiar face an angel from her childhood. "You always did pick fights Fareeha..." "You were always there to step in Angela"





	1. One

She could hear her mother scolding her in the back of her mind, _ “Fareeha Amari, what do you think you are doing in a place like this!?”  _

Her mother had a point, what was she doing in a place like this. It was some back alley underground fighting ring and Fareeha had found herself submitting her name in for the next fight. Maybe it was due to stress or the fact she needed to feel something. Her job and everything around her had become numb, auto pilot, she was becoming more like a machine everyday. She needed to feel something again. So she went looking for anything to help; alcohol, side jobs, fights, nothing seemed to help. 

“You sure about this kid? You don’t seem like the fighting type.” The man at the registration seemed to squint his eyes at her, judging her. 

“I’m not a kid and make sure you have a medic on standby.” 

“For you?” 

“For whoever I’m fighting.” 

The man seemed a bit startled at how calm her voice was, how sure of herself and the outcome, “Uh...yeah sure whatever you say miss.”

_ “You really think this is smart? I raised...all of them raised you better. How do you think Overwatch would think if they saw you doing this.”  _

With a growl and a roll of her eyes Fareeha pushed the voice of her mother down once again, Overwatch was gone. For all she knew it died with her mother, her hopes of joining crushed, the face of the angel she grew up with gone. Just a faded memory now, she couldn’t even remember the sound of the angel’s voice. 

Her name was called and she found herself in the ring, her opponent a large pink haired female that towered over her, “Zarya! Zarya! Zarya!” 

The name filled the building, the woman said something in russian she didn’t quite understand but with the look in her opponent's eyes she knew exactly what it meant. Fareeha was in for a good fight. Rolling her shoulders and cracking her knuckles Fareeha smiled like a lion staring down its prey. 

She called on the strength of her gods as the bell rang, Zarya charged first. Fist brought back ready to strike rolling to the left she dodged but just barely. The sound of her opponent's fist going by her ear was audible and let her know just how close a call it had been. Aiming a quick two hit combo to the ribs before jumping back, the hits didn’t seem to phase the Russian at all. There was a glimpse of blonde in the sea bodies surrounding the makeshift ring. 

That one second she took her eyes of her opponent was all that was needed. A large fist with enough force to bring stars to her eyes caught Fareeha in a right hook. Stumbling back a few steps trying to get her vision back, putting her arms up as a guard for her face blocking the next few volleys of punches. Her mouth tasted like copper and her head began to throb, the punch was stronger than she anticipated. Seeing red at the edge of her vision Fareeha dropped her guard and charged, dropping her shoulder in an attempt to knock Zarya off balance and into a grapple. 

Her opponent was taller, younger, and most definitely a lot heavier than her but it didn’t matter. She was pissed and she loved it. A primal yell escaped her lips almost as if it was a war cry, hitting hard and making contact Zarya slid back a few inches upon impact. Sweeping a leg out and trying to fake a kick, Zarya took the bait shifting her stance in order to block it only to find herself in a barrage of punches to her body. 

The Russian was stunned for only a second, just long enough for Fareeha to try and recover and prepare for her next attack but she would never get a chance. The Russian grabbed her by the back of her shirt and lifted her up before grabbing her legs as well and heaving her above her head. 

Another glimpse of blond but this time it was right in the front row, medic bag in hand and fearful look in those golden brown eyes. Familiar eyes, the woman had said something that Fareeha did quite catch before she found herself flying through the air. 

Fareeha felt the impact of the hard ground and every impact in her bones as she rolled, the red on the edge of her vision turning black and the sound disappearing from the world. Blinking slowly she watched as the blonde moved closer and closer every time her eyes struggled to open. A soft face looking down worried at her, a gentle hand holding her jaw for just a moment. 

An angel, she was looking at an angel. Her angel. 

“Mercy…”

The world faded to black and Fareeha was numb again, no pain, no joy, just cold. Back to normal. 

_ “You just had to go and fight. Look at you. Is this how low you have sunk Fareeha? A respected soldier and security officer, with honor and duty flowing through her veins, being reduced to fighting and losing. Destroying her body just to feel like she has accomplished something? Pathetic…” _

There was no way to ignore her mother this time, those words echoed in her head over and over. She was pathetic. She had become fragile after the years of hiding her feelings away.

Fareeha didn’t mourn her mother’s death, she didn’t mourn the loss of her friends when Overwatch was disbanded. All the coworkers who had given themselves to protect and serve. The joy she felt when she came back alive but instead of dead. All of those feeling hidden and locked away, till she became numb. Too numb. Maybe it was punishment for something, were the gods angry with her? 

“wake up….you need to open your eyes.” 

Pain filled her as her eyes barely opened, trying harder she saw the world once more. It was a doctor’s office. Sitting up, fighting against the ache in her body, in front of her was Angela. 

“Fareeha Amari! How dare you give me a heart attack like that!” 

Fareeha laughed, “nice to see you too Doc.” 

Angela sighed and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “What the hell are you doing here? And why did you think fighting Zarya was a smart idea?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Fareeha….you always liked to pick fights you couldn’t win.” 

“I always had you to step in and save me….” 

The silence was deafening and the tension was growing each passing second. The doctor stood up and walked to a counter putting distance between them. 

“It’s good to see you again…”

Those five words brought a small smile to Fareeha’s face that was gone in the blink of an eye but the warmth in her heart stayed. She would have to remember to thank the gods later for this encounter. 


	2. Two

“Fareeha you never did explain to me why you were there.” 

Fareeha turned her back away from the doctor, 

“It needs no explaining Angela. I was there, I fought, I lost money. That is all.” 

Angela extended a hand, the fingertips just brushing her shoulder, she shrugged it off. Standing, feeling every muscle in her body scream in protest. Fareeha went straight to the cleanest looking cabinet and opened it. An almost untouched bottle of whiskey and two glasses being the only contents,

“Seems like I’m not the only one with bad habits Angela.” 

Taking only the bottle, Fareeha unscrewed it and took a swig. The contents burning her throat, the sting irritating her nose, filling her with unsatisfying warmth. The alcohol not helping with any of the pain, her mother coming back into play.

_ Pathetic Fareeha…you were not raised to be like this  _

Angela still hadn’t said anything, the silence almost thundering in her ears. Internally she was screaming, begging, for Angela to say anything. Anything to drown out her mother and the guilt that always followed. 

“Fareeha….”

“What.” 

Her teeth bared, her body betraying her heart, anger, and irritation showing instead of the sadness and longing. Angela flinched slightly, her eyes still trained on the pristine white shoes. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“For what. You have nothing to be sorry for. If you brought me back here just to pity me then I have no reason to be here.”

Fareeha took another swig from the bottle, a minute passed, then two, then three. Still no response. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

The words drove not just a knife into Angela but into herself. Walking out of that office hurt even more. The outside air was dry, the heat of summer still lingering. The whiskey felt colder than it did in the office as she drank. Cold. That is what she needed to be. Cold, Uncaring and Drunk. Everything needed to fade. 

“Fareeha Wait!” 

Angela’s voice shattered her will, turning around she faced her angel. 

“.....what….” 

“Please, come home with me. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” 

Forcing down the comments of spite Fareeha allowed herself to weaken,

“Okay...Just for the night.” 

_ Finally, the smartest decision you made all night. _

Angela locked the office door, they walked down the road not saying a word, watching as the world continued to move around them. Small groups of drunk friends clamored outside bars, lovers walked hand in hand coming home from dinner, children resting on their father's shoulders admiring the stars in the sky fighting off sleep. 

By the time they reached the apartment's Fareeha had long since finished off the bottle of whiskey, the world blurred at the edges, the only image that stayed pristine….the angel in front of her. 

Angela’s apartment was simple, done in warm browns and soft white colors. Photos from her life decorating the walls and bookshelf. Medical journals and other novels filled the rest of the shelves. 

“You can sleep in the bed, looks like you need a good rest. I’ll sleep on the couch then.” 

_ Don’t be rash Fareeha…..Take the offer and sleep. _

“I am not feeling tired Angela.” 

The whiskey taking over fully now, 

“What do you mean, you can barely stand.” 

Fareeha closing the distance between them, now no more than a few inches away, Angela smelt of Vanilla compared to the salt and alcohol that reeked off of her own body, 

“I said I'm not tired, Angela.”

Before the angel could respond she had pressed their lips together. The kiss sloppy, hesitant, and underneath it, all was a passion. When they parted for air, Angela’s hands had wrapped around her neck, bodies flush, 

“Fareeha….” 

“Just tell me no. I’ll stop.” 

Angela was the one to initiate this kiss, this time it seemed rushed as if they both knew time was running out. This game had been played too many times before. Fareeha would be gone in the morning, Angela would spend the next month trying to find whatever hole she would hide out in and it would happen all over again. 

Slender hands pulling the tattered tank-top over her head, body tensing as knuckles brushed over bruises, the sound of shoes being kicked off, heavy breathing and soft moans, 

“Fareeha….” 

“Yes?” 

“Don’t leave in the morning….Please.” 

There was never a response, there would never be a response. Fareeha could never bring herself to stay and yet could never bring herself to lie to Angela either. 

_ Such a disappointment, a coward.  _

They shed more and more clothing with each step toward the back room, Angela let out a soft gasp as her back fell against the soft bed. Fareeha’s warmth overpowering everything. Calloused hands traveling up and down her sides feeling every groove of her body. Angela brushed a fallen strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind an ear, her hand then resting against Fareeha cheek. She made no comment to the wet streaks she felt, or how Fareeha seemed to lean into her palm. She knew better. Fareeha kissed her briefly before slowly kissing down her neck, each kiss seemed to linger as she pulled away, heart beating out of her chest. 

Moans escaping freely, there was no holding back. Those same rough hands delicately running up her thighs, as if she was a fragile porcelain doll that Fareeha was scared of breaking. 

“Fareeha….it’s okay..” 

That was all she needed to finally break. Fareeha sat up pulling away from her angel, back against the wall. Tears flowing freely. Sobs pulling on her broken rib, sending new waves of pain with every breath. 

Angela held her, head in her lap, fingers brushing through the ink-black strands of her hair, slowly undoing the knots. Tonight was different….everything about today was different. Maybe she would stay.

_ There you go, my child... I am proud of you. _

“It’s okay Fareeha… I am here. I’m watching over you tonight.” 

The scent of Vanilla and her Angel carried her off to sleep, the last sound she heard was not the sound of her crying but Angela crying. 


End file.
